We All Need a Break (Mercy76)
by Xavirne
Summary: I don't really know why I wrote this one, but I did. So here's your slice of life style Mercy76 fic. Nothing special but it still has its moments of cuteness.


She paused. Hands limp, they rolled from her desk before dangling idly by her side. A frustrated exhale followed.

For the past few days, she'd been holed up in this room trying to write her report. If she left out one detail, one tiny bit of evidence, the board of directors would decline her request for money, which would send she and her team into crippling debt. They needed that money to continue their testing on the Swift Response Suit. So far it had panned out well but after the most recent _incident_ , Overwatch had decided to restrict funds. It wasn't just her group though. It was an organization-wide thing. Each group would have to submit a document expression why they needed to remain a part of Overwatch and why they needed funding. A single screw up could cost she and her group their jobs and she knew that more than five people relied on this job to provide for their family. Angela was in charge of writing the report so that meant their lives were in her hands.

No pressure.

With another disgruntled sigh, she paged through her report. She'd found another mistake. The red ink smeared across the black print as she furiously jotted something down.

 _"UGH!"_

She pushed the papers away, sending them flying over the backside of the desk and floating effortlessly to the floor below. Not matter what she did, she just couldn't explain why their group needed the money. Or at least without it sounding cliche. Angela was a part of the medical group and she didn't want to use the "we keep people alive" concept as the whole base of her report. She wanted to really prove that they could do more than heal the wounded, which is why she was trying to include her Valkyrie suit in the report. But that suit was proving to be harder to include than thought. Plus, it was just expensive to maintain and only one person could fly it. It didn't seem very practical, especially with money being tight!

The clearing of a throat caused her to flinch. In that same moment, her hand dove below her desk to tear off the gun that had been "taped" there purely for security purposes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," the voice said while being held at gun point. "Don't shoot. 'tis just me and I come bearing Chinese food."

A large brown paper bag came between his shadowy face and the pistol. "See," he jiggled the bag just enough so the aroma would seep into the air and calm her senses.

"For heaven's sake, Jack, don't startle me like that," Angela huffed while retiring the pistol to the desk. "I almost shot you."

"Oh yeah?" He shifted the bag down so she could see his face. His brow was cocked and a coy grin sat on his face. "Because you forgot to disengage the safety."

Her face flushed a brilliant shade of red.

"I-I-I knew that."

"Uh-huh," Jack took a step forward. " _Suuuuuure_ ya did."

Plopping the bag of food on a vacant desk, he walked across the room to join her. Hands falling lightly on her shoulders, he pressed into those tight muscles. The second he did, she relaxed into him and a purr danced on her lips.

"I know you're busy," his massaging got a bit rougher, "because _someone_ has been _ignoring my texts_." His tone was harsh but still endearing. Almost sassy, if you will. "But you can't do this to yourself. Even the great Angela Ziegler needs a break."

His arms fell down around her chest and he rolled forward into her. Nose brushing against the nape of her neck, he engulfed her with his soft embrace. Oh how he had missed this. And, truth be told, she missed it too.

"Will you join me tonight?" he cooed while nuzzling her neck. " _Commander's orders_ ," he quickly tagged on.

"I don't know," there was a coy grin on her lips and a haughty sparkle in her sapphire stare, "does a commander's order supersede a doctor's demands?"

His expressions mimicked hers. "Does the doctor have an order _I_ must comply with?" Jack's brows wiggled. He had hoped things would take a seductive twist.

"Afraid so," her tone deflated and she visibly pulled away.

Well there went the whole seductive thing, Jack pouted internally.

"I really need to finish this report. It's due in 6 hours." She looked like hell. She had bags under her eyes, her stomach growled as if it hadn't eaten in days, her skin was starting to wrinkle.

" _Angela_ ," Jack's voice took a turn for the worst. "It's midnight. You haven't actually eaten. I would know; I've been spying on you."

Her brows furrowed. There were no cameras in he-

He pointed up at a ceiling tile that was just a hue lighter.

"Son of a bit-"

"As Overwatch's reputation has been on decline, it was decided that all facilities, regardless of security clearance, needed supervision. Even as the Strike-Commander, I too have eyes on me at all time. Nothing is sacred here."

Her face burned as she turned red. "Wait. That means-!" Her hands feel around her mouth. "Oh god." There was panic in her eyes. Just last week, before she started this report, they had wonderful office sex right on his desk. Did that mean that the security team saw the whole thing?! THE WHOLE THING!?

Now if he was a good man, he might he consoled her and said Overwatch didn't care. But, Jack being Jack, just burst out laughing.

"AH HA HA," his laugh was borderline menacing. "You should have seen your face." Slapping his knee, he fell backwards until his rear landed in a chair. "God," he wiped a tear away, "I wish I had a camera for that."

Brows furrowing, Angela looked up at the odd colored ceiling tile. But he didn't need a camera with security videos taping everything they did. Confused, she turned to Jack as he laughed his ass off. "But you just sa-"

Wait a minute. That ceiling tile was always that color because when she was first using her suit, she recklessly crashed into the ceiling. Exactly one tile broke and they didn't replace it with a color-matching tile.

That's when it really clicked. He was just trying to rile her up! He was pulling her leg!

"YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!" She threw her red pen at him. And then a pencil. Then the stapler.

Eventually, the entire desk's set of supplies were littering the floor around Jack, who was still laughing at his antics.

"You're so... so!" She puffed out her cheeks. "So immature! I was worried that we'd been found out and that I needed to clean up my act. But _noooo_ , you're just teasing me because you think you can." Curtly, she turned her head away. With a defiant huff, she demand he leave. "I will _not_ be joining you for dinner so you can go now."

Laugh coming to an end, Jack plopped his chin in his hands. "Awww, c'mon, Angie. You needed a good scare. You've been slaving away all week. It was time someone turn your mood around. And since bringing Chinese didn't seem to lighten things, I figured a good scare would derail you."

"And for a good reason! If I don't successfully document everything AND explain why I need the funding, my SRS won't be-" She saw him yawn, which pissed her off. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is my work not good enough for you?"

He said not a word as he stood up and walked across the room. Dropping to a knee before her, Jack scooped her hands into his own, despite her protesting.

"You're the smartest, most brilliant, most passionate woman I've ever met. Overwatch was be lost without you. Your drive for peace and protection is unprecedented. You've worked harder than anyone else to create tools that keep my men on their toes. You save lives and you seek to create a future where war is just a myth. Why would we ever get rid of you. And although your suit is expensive and requires constant upkeep, it allows you to fly in with me. You're my guardian angel; Overwatch's guardian angel. If we don't have you, then we might as well give up now. We can't win without your blessing."

A small smile sat on her lips. He always knew how to make her feel special.

"So stop worrying. You're being too hard on yourself. Join me for... for 30-minutes. We all need a break! Escape your report and focus on the sesame chicken. When we're done, you can go back to work and I'll head to your apartment to water your flowers." He saw her get ready to comment on how they were probably dead. "Worry not, I've got a green thumb so I've been tending to them all week. I am a farmer's boy after all," he teased.

Rising, he extended her a hand. "Now," that soft look in his eyes caused her heart to flutter, "will you join me for dinner. I miss eating with my girlfriend."

A light brush powdered her cheeks. Averting her passionate stare, she accepted his invitation. "I suppose you're right. Plus," her orbs fell on him, "it would be nice to see my boyfriend for a little bit."


End file.
